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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25775665">What Golden Hand Is Good For</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTP/pseuds/LadyTP'>LadyTP</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Jaime realises something monumental, Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020, Mutual Pining, POV Jaime Lannister, Post-Canon, Reunions, so much left unsaid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25775665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTP/pseuds/LadyTP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime frowned. Had he truly changed?<br/>He remembered Cersei’s letter. <em>‘I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.’</em><br/>Before, he would have abandoned everything else and ridden to her with no thought other than her safety. Now…<br/><em>Before I would have followed Cersei as blindly as I now followed Brienne.</em><br/>The truth, when it finally hit him like a punch into the gut, was so obvious that it shocked Jaime he hadn’t seen it before.<br/>---<br/>Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth meet again after Brienne stumbles into Jaime’s camp at Pennytree with an earnest plea. What happens when Jaime follows her? Can Jaime resolve the conflict of his newly found emotions – and will Brienne let him?</p><p>Written for Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020 for a prompt: <strong>“Jaime tells Brienne about hitting Ronnet Connington when he insulted her.”</strong></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Golden Hand Is Good For</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doreamon/gifts">Doreamon</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this fic for a prompt: <em>“Jaime tells Brienne about hitting Ronnet Connington when he insulted her.”</em> This is a small introspective exploration of these two idiots skirting around each other, not voicing out loud what they <em>really</em> want to say – except in a roundabout way, including Jaime’s telling of what happened with Ronnet Connington.</p><p>Million thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecilia1204/pseuds/Cecilia1204/">Cecilia1204</a> for betaing this work!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <strong>Jaime</strong> </em>
</p><p>Jaime found her on the floor, leaning against the tent pole with hunched shoulders and bowed head, her limp and lifeless blond hair drooped down to obscure her face. Longer hair was just one of the many things that had changed since he had sent her on her quest; one of the many things that had alarmed Jaime when he had first seen her.</p><p>My<em> quest, for my last chance of honour. </em>I <em>did this to her.</em></p><p>“Lady Brienne,” Jaime said in a low voice, then stopped. If he had expected acknowledgement from her of his presence, he was left waiting. Only the slightest flinch of her shoulders suggested she had heard him.</p><p>All around Jaime could hear the buzz surrounding them; raised voices of men boasting their victory, grunts of the wounded being attended to, the clang of weapons of the defeated being sorted: all the usual buzz of a camp after a successful encounter. Yet here, in this tent, all those voices faded into the background and Jaime’s world narrowed to only that small sliver of quiet and to the presence of the woman on the floor.</p><p>Not knowing what to say, Jaime sat gingerly on the cot in the middle of the tent. It had been set for the night but from the looks of it, hadn’t been used.</p><p>
  <em>Has she been sitting there for the whole night?</em>
</p><p>Jaime was not in a hurry. Staring at Brienne’s listless form, he realised this was the first time they were truly alone, just the two of them, since she had appeared in his camp the previous evening with an unlikely tale of the Hound and Sansa Stark.</p><p>Jaime winced. He had been ready to drop everything then and there to follow her, throwing all caution to the wind simply because <em>she </em>had asked him to do so. And why not? It had made sense to him, although how Sandor Clegane had gained possession of Lady Sansa had seemed odd. However, everything was possible in these uncertain times, so why not that too? If so, Sandor likely wanted to use her as leverage to get back into the good graces of the Lannisters, the only service he had ever known.</p><p>Furthermore, Jaime would have agreed to that in a heartbeat. He had never believed the tales of the Hound in the Saltpans - it didn’t sound like the Sandor Clegane he knew. He would have heard the man and been assured of the matter and that would have been it.</p><p>As for Sansa… Jaime hadn’t had time to think of what to do with her, except <em>not</em> to send her to the capital. He might have asked Brienne to take her with her somewhere safe, somewhere far, far away. Maybe to Tarth. Not only safe for her but safe for Brienne as well. Her appearance had shocked Jaime to the core; the bandaged wound on her face, the splintered arm and her gaunt appearance.</p><p>Yet it hadn’t taken long before Brienne had revealed the truth, whispering loudly with her head bowed down, pretending to examine the belt of her saddle as Jaime was readying his horse to follow her. She had warned him about the ruse of Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood without Banners waiting for him, and how they were being observed even then to see if Brienne betrayed the plan.</p><p>Her tone had been pleading as she had told him about the threat upon the lives of Podrick Payne and a man called Hyle Hunt – who Jaime immediately disliked. Why was his life so valuable to Lady Brienne?</p><p>Calm presence of mind had returned to Jaime then, and the rest of the plan he had quickly formed and inconspicuously passed to Ser Kennos had worked out perfectly.</p><p>Now, after his troops had attacked the Brotherhood camp after following him and Brienne at a discreet distance, making short work of the men whose focus had been on the forced fight between him and Brienne, he could look back on it from a different perspective. Not that of a strategist and a soldier, but a man weighed down by racking guilt.</p><p>Jaime had observed Brienne as they had ridden, noticing her nervousness and discomfort of being forced into deceit and subterfuge, and other, more worrying signs. Besides her obvious injuries, she had scrapes and bruises on her face and hands, and on her neck, an unmistakable sign of rope burn.</p><p><em>Gods, what have they done to you?</em> Jaime had thought, guilt and anger piercing him. <em>He</em> had been the one sending her away, and all her suffering had been because of <em>him</em>.</p><p>He had asked her about it, of course, but Brienne had rebuffed him with a few muttered words of it not mattering.</p>
<hr/><p>Jaime sighed and shifted on the cot. He should be out there with his men, directing the proceedings, interrogating the prisoners and making arrangements for what to do next. Yet he didn’t want to leave. There were too many questions whirling around in his head, questions only she could answer, questions that were not only about the necessities of the situation but of more personal nature.</p><p>
  <em>How are you truly, Brienne? What can I do to help?</em>
</p><p>There had been one moment of elation during the whole misery of the past day: when the swarm of Lannister soldiers had emerged from the woods shouting “Casterly!” and Jaime had flashed a smile at Brienne, who had feebly pretended to fight him until then.</p><p>“What say you we finish this dance and turn on our enemies instead, wench?” he had shouted, and Brienne had pressed her lips together in a tight line and swirled around with her sword poised - and what had followed had been more glorious than any battle from Jaime’s past. He had been clumsy and slow but not completely useless, the anger and thrill of fighting side by side with a warrior he could trust absolutely had coursed through his veins and spurred him on, his sword laying waste to anyone who had dared to hurt her.</p><p>The fight had been bloody and brief and over in no time. When the last of the outlaws had either died or thrown their weapons away, Jaime had seen Brienne kneeling over the body of the creature that had once been the Lady Catelyn. Whose had been the strike that had felled her, Jaime didn’t know nor care, although he had his suspicions, seeing as how quiet and dejected Brienne had been on their way back.</p>
<hr/><p>“Lady Brienne,” Jaime tried again, raising his voice. “Has anyone seen to your wounds? The bandage on your face is dirty and your arm must be aggravated after yesterday. There is a man in my party who is good at treating battle wounds, and I told him to come and have a look at you once he’s done with the other wounded.”</p><p>Brienne finally raised her head. Her stare was blank, her blue eyes – <em>she really has astonishing blue eyes</em> – looked ahead, unseeing. For a moment it seemed she was not going to answer, but eventually, she responded.</p><p>“I killed her,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.</p><p>Jaime didn’t need to guess who she meant. Finding out the identity of Lady Stoneheart had stunned Jaime, but he simply couldn’t associate that creature with Lady Catelyn, no matter what the unnatural link between the two might have been.</p><p>“It was for the better. She was not who she used to be – <em>it</em> was not what she had been.” Jaime shuddered remembering the mottled skin, the piercing eyes and the strips of dead flesh hanging from the face. “Lady Catelyn died at the Red Wedding.”</p><p>Brienne’s eyes flashed towards him, brimming with tears.</p><p>“What you did was a mercy, an act in the honour of her memory. It was the right thing to do.” Jaime spoke in soothing tones, as if to a child, and felt ridiculous for doing so. Yet he was rewarded when Brienne’s face softened and some of the blankness melted away.</p><p>“Have you not slept?” Jaime asked next, gesturing at the cot. “You still have time, we won’t be moving along today. Too many things to do here. After your bandages have been changed, you can sleep. I will make sure nobody disturbs you.”</p><p>Brienne seemed to think it over and to Jaime’s relief, slowly rose from the floor. She walked towards the cot but instead of moving away, Jaime stayed sitting, leaving Brienne no choice but to sit next to him. He could feel her presence and knew that he <em>should</em> have given her space - but he simply couldn’t do it.</p><p>“I am sorry about the ruse,” Brienne said. “I had to do it, but at the same time I didn’t want to lead you to your death.” Her voice was low and she stared down at her hands on her lap.</p><p>“You did right. It was the best course of action you could have taken and I’m glad you took it. The Riverlands is now freed from the outlaws and you and your friends are free.”</p><p>Jaime had briefly met Podrick Payne, who had stammered his gratitude with a tell-tale sign of a rope burn around his neck; proof – if any was needed – that Brienne had spoken truth about the threat to her companions. Hyle Hunt had come to thank him as well, and although Jaime knew it to be unreasonable, he had given the man the cold shoulder. Who was he and what did he have to do with Lady Brienne, he wondered, something dark and uninvited rising in him.</p><p> “Yes, they are, and I am thankful for that.” Brienne turned to look at him. “What do you plan to do with them?”</p><p>“I don’t plan to do anything, they can do as they wish.” Jaime couldn’t hold back any longer. “What were they doing with you anyway? I know Podrick; did he seek you out after he left Tyrion’s service? But who is Hyle Hunt?”</p><p>Brienne smiled, a tremulous and guarded smile, but it was a welcome sight to Jaime just the same. “Young Pod did indeed seek me out, wanting to be my squire. At first, I didn’t want him, but he is a good lad and I grew used to him.”</p><p>“And Hunt?”</p><p>“Ser Hyle joined me after he was dismissed from the service of Randall Tarly in Maidenpool. He wanted to help me find Sansa Stark.” Brienne frowned. “Although it seems he had other plans too. No matter, though, they were thwarted soon enough.”</p><p>“Plans? What plans?”</p><p>“Matters not,” Brienne said too quickly, but Jaime didn’t miss the slow spread of red on her face. Now he <em>had</em> to know.</p><p>“Did he do something to you? Did he -- “ Gods, if the man had dared to touch a hair on the wench’s head, Jamie would finish what Lady Stoneheart had started and strangle him with his own hands. Jaime’s fingers balled into a fist.</p><p>“No, he didn’t do anything. Only talked.”</p><p>“What did he talk about? If he insulted you, I swear – “</p><p>“I guess he proposed to me, in a way.” Brienne glanced down and blushed more.</p><p>
  <em>Proposed?</em>
</p><p>For some reason Jaime was taken aback by the notion. Yet why would he? Brienne was a highborn lady and an heiress to the Evenstar. She would be a tempting proposition to any hedge knight such as Ser Hyle. Hells, she had been a tempting proposition to a landed knight, Ronald Connington of Griffin’s Roost seeking her hand for his son – a fool of a man who had not seen past his stupid prejudices.</p><p>Jaime grimaced, remembering the stunned face of Ser Ronnet when he had spat blood on his feet after a crack across the mouth with Jaime’s golden hand.</p><p>Yet the knowledge unsettled him more than he cared to admit. What was it to him who courted Brienne? It was not as if…</p><p>“I turned him down, of course,” Brienne continued, apparently not noticing Jaime’s brooding. “But I still couldn’t let him die just because he chose to follow me.”</p><p>“Good,” said Jaime coldly. “He doesn’t deserve you. And neither did Ser Ronnet.”</p><p>Brienne looked up. “Ser Ronnet?”</p><p>“Of Griffin’s Roost. I had the misfortune of running into him in Harrenhal just recently. He mentioned his father had tried to arrange a betrothal between you and him.”</p><p>Brienne bit her lip. “It didn’t go well. I remember when he came to Evenfall.”</p><p>“I know, he told me so. The man had the audacity to speak unkindly of you – but not for long.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Hard to speak through broken teeth and bloodied mouth,” Jaime replied dryly, wishing he had hit the man harder, breaking his jaw and worse.</p><p>Brienne stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Her stance had relaxed while they had been speaking, but now she tensed.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Jaime smiled. “I hit him, cracked that vile-spewing mouth of his with my golden hand. It is good for some things, you know.” He lifted his right hand and admired the glint of metal in the light streaming from the open pane of the tent.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Jaime glanced at her. “He spoke rudely of you. Called you names. I couldn’t let him get away with that.”</p><p>“Why?” Brienne cocked her head, appearing bewildered. “Many men have called me names and will continue to do so. <em>You </em>have called me names. Why would you care?”</p><p>It was Jaime’s turn to feel abashed, remembering his own cruel words to her. It seemed so distant, as if done by someone else, not him. What had he been thinking? To cover his discomfort he latched on to a question of his own.</p><p>“Why did you try to defend me to the outlaws and Lady Stoneheart? Did you really tell them that I had sent you to take Lady Sansa to safety, had no part in the Red Wedding and that I had… changed?”</p><p>Before Lady Stoneheart had forced them into the farce of a swordfight, Brienne had pleaded for Jaime’s life. It had been clear that she had done that already before, but had felt compelled to try again. Jaime had listened to her in awe, almost wondering who she was talking about.</p><p>However, it hadn’t been exactly <em>what</em> she had said that had stayed in Jaime’s mind, because at least some of it had, as a matter of fact, been true. It had been the <em>way</em> she had said it. Earnestly. Sincerely. <em>Fervently</em>.</p><p>Jaime frowned. Had he truly changed?</p><p>He remembered Cersei’s letter. <em>‘I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.’</em></p><p>Before, he would have abandoned everything else and ridden to her with no thought other than her safety. Now…</p><p>
  <em>Before I would have followed Cersei as blindly as I now followed Brienne.</em>
</p><p>The truth, when it finally hit him like a punch to the gut, was so obvious it shocked Jaime that he hadn’t seen it before.</p><p>
  <em>So that’s how it is.</em>
</p><p>He felt lightheaded, blinded by his realisation. It was as if the shackles he had carried for so long that he had forgotten they were there had been dropped and he was experiencing freedom for the first time. Free, light, soaring to the skies.</p><p>Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in Brienne’s scent. He remembered it from the days and nights they had been bound together in their captivity, even over the smell of his rotting hand. He remembered it from his dreams.</p><p>When he opened his eyes he saw Brienne examining him, a small frown creasing her forehead. Had she read his mind? Did she know? Silent panic raised its head inside Jaime.</p><p>“I said those things because they were true,” Brienne said simply. “You are not the man you were when I first met you. Or are you?”</p><p>Jaime forced his mind back to the discussion at hand and shook his head. “I guess I’m not.”</p><p>They sat silent a while longer, both mulling over their thoughts. Jaime was still reeling from his realisation that somehow, somewhere along the way, this non-assuming and unusual woman had crept under his skin and he had been too stupid to notice it. And now, faced with the fact, he didn’t know what he should do with that knowledge.</p><p>One thing was sure: he couldn’t send her on her way again.</p><p>“Brienne,” he started, not having a clue what he was going to say. When he turned his head, he saw she was still looking at him.</p><p>“Jaime?” A question, an encouragement for him to say what he had in mind. As if Jamie knew it himself.</p><p>However, before Jaime could get his jumbled thoughts into any kind of coherent order, the tent flap was raised and Lanny, the bonesetter and a healer, called from outside. “My lord, you wanted me to attend to the lady. Is now a good time?”</p><p>Jaime jumped up off the cot as if from a bed of hot coals and strolled briskly towards the front of the tent. “Yes it is, do come in!”</p><p>The man entered, short and stout, his shoulders hunched under the weight of a sleepless night and dark shadows circling his eyes. Their casualties had not been substantial but there had been a few difficult cases, Jaime knew. At least one man had lost his leg, and various cuts and gashes had required stitching.</p><p>“Look after her wounds the best you can, all of them. Her cheek, her arm, anything else.” Jaime raised an eyebrow at Brienne, hoping there would be no more. She didn’t react.</p><p>Lanny carried his healing kit inside and after hovering at the doorframe for a moment, unsure if he should go or stay, Jaime couldn’t find any more excuses for the latter.</p><p>“Then sleep, my lady. I’ll have someone bring you food and drink but after that, I’ll make sure nobody disturbs you.” Jaime nodded his head before stepping out, breathing in deep lungfuls of crisp clean air to clear his head on his way to take care of his many duties of the day.</p>
<hr/><p>Jaime’s mind was reeling. After recognising the truth of his feelings, it was as if a door that had been tightly shut before had been opened and a million thoughts and ideas rushed through it into his head.</p><p><em>Brienne. Cersei. </em>Brienne<em>.</em></p><p>And above all,<em> what can I do?</em></p><p>Interviewing the prisoners, sending men to see what else they could find at the outlaws' camp and deciding what to do next took several hours, but finally the most urgent things had been sorted. Jaime intended to go back to his tent to write some messages when his steps took him back to Brienne’s tent instead, quite without his conscious intention.</p><p>He peeked inside, prepared to withdraw if he was intruding. However, to his relief he saw Brienne in the cot, sleeping peacefully – fully clothed and both the bandage on her head and the splint on her arm clean and pristine.</p><p>Jaime should have walked away and left her in peace, but instead, he found himself stepping in, quietly and carefully not to rouse her. He had no intention to wake her – she needed her sleep – but he didn’t have the heart to leave just yet.</p><p>Jaime approached the cot slowly and after stopping to make sure she was deep in sleep, he knelt on the floor beside it. His eyes studied Brienne’s sleeping form keenly. Had that been the first reddish signs of fever on her face earlier? Were her wounds suppurating? Should he call for the healer again?</p><p>Brienne’s face was tranquil, her features relaxed. Locks of straw-coloured hair framed her features and watching her, Jaime suddenly couldn’t remember why he had ever thought her ugly. Yes, her nose was crooked, but it just gave her face more personality. Her mouth was wide and generous – but had her lips always been so soft and sensual?</p><p>A sudden surge of protectiveness overtook Jaime. He couldn’t let her go on with her quest; Lady Sansa couldn’t be found and even if she was, there was no place for her to go after Winterfell had been lost and her family dead. Besides, Cersei had other troubles and wouldn’t waste her energy on going after Sansa any longer. She had found Joffrey’s killer in Tyrion and locating him was where Cersei’s remaining efforts were focused.</p><p>Lady Catelyn was finally at peace and the service Brienne had done for her by ending her horrific existence as a corpse was surely enough to release her from her vows. As for him - well, he was used to breaking his vows so what was one more? Especially if it kept someone he cared for safe.</p><p>Brienne shifted and Jaime froze – but it had been only restlessness of sleep, soon settling down again to the tune of deep, rhythmic breathing.</p><p>Jaime lifted his hand and hovered it over Brienne’s face. Her eyes were shut, pale lashes resting against freckled skin. He wanted to touch her, gently, kindly, but dared not.</p><p>
  <em>Brienne.</em>
</p><p>It was just a thought, not even sighed aloud, but as if hearing him, she shifted again and her lashes fluttered. Jaime held his breath but it didn’t help; Brienne’s eyes opened slowly, narrowly, staying half-closed. Leaning right over her, the first thing she saw was Jaime’s face – but instead of recoiling or being surprised, she smiled. Her lips moved and Jamie could hear her mutter softly.</p><p>
  <em>“Jaime.”</em>
</p><p>He smiled back at hearing his name on her lips – and it seemed only then that Brienne woke up fully. Her eyes widened and she looked frantically around her before returning her gaze to him.</p><p>“Ser Jaime, what is it?” She struggled to get up but Jaime put his hand on her shoulder, pressing down gently.</p><p>“Shhhh, nothing is a matter, all is well. My apologies for waking you up.”</p><p>Her blue-eyed gaze pierced him, face still alarmed.</p><p>“I came to see if everything is well. I was worried you might have a fever, from your wounds.” Jamie gestured awkwardly at her cheek. “Nothing else.”</p><p>Brienne ceased her struggle and fell back. Her earlier relaxed stance was gone and she looked worried.</p><p>Jaime missed the expression he had seen just moments ago. He tried to remember how often he had seen Brienne smiling. Not often, and never so genuinely and as unguarded as just now. He wanted to see that again, the smile that was directed just at him. As she <em>had </em>known it was him, in that brief moment between sleep and wakefulness. She <em>had</em> whispered his name.</p><p>“I am fine, I don’t feel feverish,” Brienne muttered, turning her head aside.</p><p>Jaime seized on the excuse and touched her brow with his hand, feeling it dry and warm and her skin so very soft against his.</p><p>“So it seems, but better to be safe than sorry.”</p><p>He let his hand drop just a little, so it rested against her good cheek. Brienne didn’t push it away so he let it just stay there.</p><p>Brienne looked at the wall of the tent, then at Jaime. She seemed to have come to terms with Jaime being there, but her chest rose and fell with shallow, rapid breaths.</p><p>“Jaime, what happens now?”</p><p><em>I’ll keep you safe,</em> Jamie wanted to say. Yet, of course, he couldn’t. That would have sounded ridiculous coming from him and Brienne wouldn’t have believed a word of it.</p><p>“You will rest and recuperate and come with me to Riverrun. Pod can come with us if he wants. This Hyle, what do you want to do with him?”</p><p>Despite having been assured that there was nothing between him and Brienne, Jaime held his breath.</p><p>“He can go on his way. I was going to tell him just that before we were attacked by the Brotherhood. I want Pod to stay with me – if he wants it.” Brienne sighed. “But we can’t come to Riverrun. I must continue my search for Lady Sansa.”</p><p>“She is not to be found – haven’t you been searching for her for months already? She is likely hunkered somewhere safe and sound. Besides, what would you do if you <em>did</em> find her? She can’t go to Winterfell, her whole family is dead.”</p><p>“I would keep her safe, and I could find Lady Arya too,” Brienne stated.</p><p>“You can’t do both – or would you drag Lady Sansa with you on your quest and subject her to the same horrors you have endured? No, I can’t have that. I sent you on this quest and I will call it off.”</p><p>Jaime leaned down lower, so his face was only a hands-width away from Brienne’s.</p><p>“Come with me to Riverrun. I have asked for Lady Catelyn’s bones to be cleaned and we can take them there, to rest in her home. We can’t take them to Winterfell but Riverrun was where she was born and grew up, and I’m sure she would like that as her last resting place. We could bury her next to her mother and father.”</p><p>“I can’t.” Brienne stared at Jaime resolutely and took a deep breath. “I made a promise, and I must stand by what is right. What Lannisters are doing in the Riverlands and the whole Seven Kingdoms… it is not <em>right</em>. It is not honourable.”</p><p>She pinched her mouth shut, seemingly satisfied that it was all the explanation that was needed.</p><p>Jaime leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.<em> You stubborn wench.</em></p><p>“It is not that simple,” Jaime started, but his mind was blank. What could he say to convince her that her search was futile and dangerous and she should stay with him instead? How could he counteract her reasoning?</p><p>That was the thing: he couldn’t, and so no words came to him.</p><p>“Brienne”, he tried again.</p><p>Brienne opened her eyes and Jaime could have drowned into their deep blue.</p><p>“Jaime.”</p><p>They stared at each other for a long time, both seemingly equally incapable of forming a coherent sentence. Eventually Brienne sighed.</p><p>“You promised I wouldn’t be disturbed. I’d like to sleep now.” She turned her back on Jaime and pulled the blanket up to her ears, and Jaime had no option than to back away. He rose and walked slowly to the door, stopping there to look back over his shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll come and see you again in the evening. Rest well, my lady.”</p><p>As Jaime strode away he tried to remember if he had ever called Brienne ‘my lady’ before. Surely he had? If he hadn’t, what the hells had been wrong with him?</p>
<hr/><p>The rest of the day went by in a blur, Jaime finding it hard to concentrate on matters at hand. After the evening meal, which he had initially wanted to share with Brienne only to be told that she had already had hers by the campfire with her companions, he tried to focus on writing dispatches. Letters seemed to evade him even more than usual, and after scratching over the same line for the third time, Jaime threw the note away in frustration and stood up.</p><p>Brienne was alone in the tent, sorting pieces of her armour into a neat pile. Jaime had seen Pod scrubbing it to a fine sheen earlier and had wished in passing that his squires would attend to their duties as diligently as he did. The boy adored his lady, that was obvious – and how could he blame him?</p><p>The visit was brief and wholly unsatisfactory, Brienne refusing to enter into any sort of meaningful discussion, skirting around Jaime’s questions regarding her plans. They were soon interrupted by the arrival of Pod, and when Jaime tried to scare the boy away with a scowl, Brienne insisted that they had important things to go through and would Ser Jaime mind – once again leaving him with no choice but to leave.</p><p>Jaime gnashed his teeth all the way back to his tent. He had to get through to her, he simply <em>had</em> to.</p>
<hr/><p>The next morning Jaime got up early and dressed quickly. Determined not to let anything stand in his way this time, he strode the now-familiar path to Brienne’s tent. When he raised the tent flap, he saw that Brienne had, however, beat him to it, standing there in her full armour, adjusting Oathkeeper on her hip.</p><p>“Lady Brienne, what does this mean?” Jaime surveyed the scene, increasing panic rising his chest. The cot was bare, blankets neatly folded at its foot, an empty bowl of porridge on the floor.</p><p>“I am leaving. Pod is readying the horses.” Her voice was steady but she avoided Jaime’s eyes by fussing with her sword belt. Then, all of a sudden she stopped, frowned, released the belt from her waist and lifted it and the Oathkeeper, offering it to Jaime.</p><p>“You may want this back. If I don’t have your support to continue my quest, you may not see  fit that I continue carrying it.” Her shoulders slumped and her eyes were downcast, and when Jaime stared at her outstretched hands, he noticed them trembling. Just a bit, hardly noticeable, but still.</p><p>Disbelief flooded him. If he took the sword back, would he lose the only physical connection between them, as tenuous as it was?</p><p>“No, I don’t want it back. It is yours, it will always be yours.” Jaime pushed the sword back into her hands, wrapping her fingers around the hilt, his own engulfing hers. For a moment Brienne hesitated, but then she accepted and removed the sword carefully from Jaime’s grip and started buckling it back to her waist.</p><p>Jaime’s mind raced. If he couldn’t plead with her to stay – and he most certainly didn’t want to force her – how could he best help her?</p><p>“My lady, you need supplies, gold, horses. Here, have this.” Jaime untied a bag of coins from his belt and handed it to Brienne. “I have more in my tent. I'll send someone to fetch it. As well as supplies; food, blankets, tent, whatever you need. New horses, a mule to carry everything. Go with Pod to see my quartermaster and he will give you anything you want. Take it all.”</p><p><em>Take me</em>, he wanted to say.</p><p>Brienne frowned. “You have given me so much already. I may never be able to repay you.” She bit her lip. “And I haven’t given you anything. I wish I could, but I have nothing to give.”</p><p>For a moment Jaime stared at her, wondering if he should make a total fool of himself and ask for her favour to wear. Wasn’t that what knights were supposed to ask from their lady loves? <em>Or a kiss?</em></p><p>Then inspiration struck him.</p><p>He unbuckled Widow’s Wail from his waist, where it had hung throughout his campaign in the Riverrun. King Tommen had granted it to him before he had left King’s Landing, and as uncomfortable as Jaime had been about wearing a sword acquired so unscrupulously, it <em>was</em> Valyrian steel and a joy to hold.</p><p>“Here, take this too. It is a sister sword to Oathkeeper and should go where it goes.” Jaime saw Brienne start to shake her head, but before she had a chance to say anything, he rushed ahead. “But if you think me worthy, you can grant it to me. As a gift.”</p><p>Brienne stared at the proffered sword, then took it slowly. She pulled it out of its scabbard and studied the red and black ripples of the steel, so like Oathkeeper’s. Jaime followed her every move, realising how desperately he wanted her to gift it back to him, as that would make it truly his – more so than Tommen’s formal and stilted words ever had.</p><p>“Very well,” Brienne said slowly. “I accept this gift from you. And you are right, these two belong together and they should eventually be returned to their true owner, the head of House Stark. Yet as I hold on to Oathkeeper, I charge you to hold on to this sword. I charge you not to raise it against its true house and to use it well and honourably.” She rested the sword in her upturned palms and offered it to Jaime.</p><p>He took it and considered his next words carefully, speaking slowly and solemnly, holding the sword between them.</p><p>“I thank you for this, and I accept your charge. I promise I will not raise it against House Stark and that I will use it honourably.” <em>Gods know how I am going to achieve that – but I have to try.</em></p><p>Brienne nodded, then smiled. “Finally I have given you something.”</p><p>
  <em>You have given me more than you know.</em>
</p><p>“Two halves of the same,” Jaime said, also smiling, not thinking of only the swords. He and Brienne were as different as two people could be – but still… He groaned internally. Brienne had said the swords belonged together – but what about those who held them?</p><p>“It has a name, but I don’t think it is a good name,” Jaime moved on. “Joffrey called it Widow’s Wail, but I’d like to rename it. I have a suggestion – if you agree with it.”</p><p>Brienne raised her eyebrows. “What is your suggestion?”</p><p>“As you took Oathkeeper to fulfil an oath, I take this to fulfil a promise. I call it My Promise.”</p><p>Brienne’s eyes widened. “It is a good name, Ser Jaime. I’ll remember that.”</p><p>After another awkward silence, Brienne turned her attention back to her packing while Jaime stood still, rooted to his spot. Soon enough Brienne was ready and lifted her bag to her shoulder.</p><p>“If your generous offer still stands, I would welcome some supplies. Pod is probably already waiting for me, so we could go and have a look…”</p><p>“Of course. Anything you want.” Jaime turned reluctantly towards the tent door.</p><p>“Ser Jaime, one more thing,” Brienne murmured, and when Jaime looked at her, he saw her blushing.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Thank you… for Ser Ronnet. But please, there is no need for you to go around and reprimand those who have said rude things about me. Save your fight for worthier causes.”</p><p>“I protest, it <em>is</em> a worthy cause – but if I was to be thorough, I would need to chastise myself too,” Jamie smirked, then got serious. “Yet as I wouldn’t mind keeping my teeth intact, maybe it would do if I just apologised to you for any cruel words I have said in the past. Do you think you could forgive me?”</p><p>Brienne blinked, clearly taken aback. “Forgive you? Of course I do. I have already done so, a long time ago.”</p><p>“Since I came to my senses, you mean?” Jaime had made his apologies light-heartedly, but hearing Brienne’s absolution filled him with an unexpectedly strong relief. The past was done and the future was open. Even should they never meet again – a real possibility in these turbulent times and considering their opposing allegiances – he would always know that they had parted with a clean slate.</p><p>And so, after Jaime watched Brienne’s tall frame get smaller and smaller the further away she rode, he brushed the head of the lion in the hilt of his sword with his thumb. He, who had always laughed at oaths and vows, knew deep in his bones that <em>this</em> was one promise he was going to keep.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>It took many years and many battles - some bloody, fought out in the open, some emotional, wrestled deep within one’s soul – but eventually, the two swords and their owners reunited. The head of House Stark, Bran the Seer, declared he didn’t want the swords reforged into one again but that they were to continue to be carried by the defenders of that noble house – and so it was.</p><p>And the swords, and the two who carried them, were never set apart again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I intended to leave the ending obvious and ambiguous – but I found that I simply couldn’t… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯<br/>Let me know what you think of this story - if you feel like it! 😊</p></blockquote></div></div>
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